


An Anniversary

by Willowbrooke



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-26 00:12:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/959272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willowbrooke/pseuds/Willowbrooke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“The matter of my heart and whether or not I actually possess one has been discussed ad nauseum of late."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this some time ago, but this is my first posted Sherlock fanfic. Thank you for reading and all comments are appreciated.

John Watson was sitting at his computer updating his blog. Sherlock Holmes was stretched out on the nearby sofa thoughtfully plucking at the strings of his violin. John glanced at Sherlock and noticed the usual look of concentration on the now-famous detective's face. John naturally assumed that Sherlock was in the middle of mentally solving their latest case, but in actuality, the man was very distracted and on edge. 

Sherlock had been thinking for weeks about how to say what he needed to say to John. Today was the perfect opportunity, but he was having doubts. Sherlock never doubted himself, so this alone was a sign that he was on unfamiliar ground.

As John concentrated on his keyboard pecking, Sherlock spoke, trying to sound casual. “Do you know what today is?” 

John stopped pecking & turned to look at Sherlock. “Wednesday?” 

Sherlock scowled. “Stop being so literal. I meant the significance of this particular date. Come on, it's not that hard."

John thought for a moment. It was March 26th or 27th. It wasn't his or Sherlock’s birthday. Nor was it Mrs. Hudson’s. He couldn't think of any cases where that date was significant. He gave up and replied, “No…sorry…no idea.”

Sherlock was momentarily disappointed, but moved on. “It was a year ago today that Stamford brought you to St. Bart's and introduced us.”

“Was it?” John asked. He smiled & continued, “Well, that year has certainly flown by. I suppose time flies when you’re having fun.”

Sherlock let out the breath he had been holding and continued, “I thought we might go out tonight to celebrate. I've taken the liberty of making reservations for dinner.”

“Right,” John said as he looked at his watch. It was just gone half five. “What time?”

“Seven. Is that alright?”

“Yes,” John said. “Sounds nice. Thanks.” He was surprised that Sherlock wanted to commemorate the day, but he was pleased. He appeared to return his focus to the computer screen, but his concentration had been disrupted.

Did Sherlock have any idea how much this past year had meant to him? Running into Mike Stamford that day in the park had been the best thing that ever happened to him for so many reasons.

He was surprised when Sherlock spoke again and he wondered, not for the first time, if Sherlock could actually read his thoughts. “I seem to recall that you were a bit put off by my suggestion that day that we should meet here & have a look at the flat. You replied, I believe, that we' know nothing about each other & don’t even know each others names.'”

John chuckled. “Yes, well, your directness can be a bit off-putting. And then you totally unnerved me with your deductions about Harry.”

“Simple observations John. At least you didn't tell me to piss off.” They both smiled. Sherlock swallowed and then asked, “Any regrets?”

John responded immediately, “God no.” He hesitated for a moment and then spoke again while looking down at the keyboard. “Sherlock, I don’t think I've ever said it to you, but I hope you know that this past year saved me. I owe you so much. I don’t know where I would be if I hadn't met you.” He wanted to say more. Much more.

“Nonsense. You've been an invaluable help to me. Not to mention the fact that your blog has made me a household name.” They both laughed.

John hesitated again but he asked the question anyway, “What about you. Any regrets?” Sherlock noticed that as John spoke, he was absentmindedly rubbing his left shoulder where he had been wounded in Afghanistan. Sherlock’s opportunity had just presented itself.

“Only one, but we can discuss that later.” 

As John was trying to digest Sherlock’s cryptic answer, Sherlock got up, walked over and stood behind John. “I see your shoulder is bothering you again,” he said. As he spoke, he reached out with both hands & began massaging John’s wounded shoulder. Sherlock had done this for John several times before. His touch was, as always, gentle but firm and the pain began to subside immediately. John closed his eyes enjoying the moment but afraid to read too much into it. In spite of what he tried to tell himself, in place of the pain, John now felt electricity surging where Sherlock touched him. 

Sherlock’s hands finally stopped moving and rested on John’s shoulder. “Better?” he asked.

John tried to steady his voice before he spoke. “Yes, thanks. You have a magic touch.”

Sherlock quietly lifted his hands. The right one moved to John’s other shoulder & the left reached up and gently stroked John’s cheek before returning to the wounded shoulder. He then leaned in and tenderly kissed the cheek he had just touched. “Happy Anniversary John.” 

John's heart suddenly leapt into his throat. What the hell was that? Did this mean that Sherlock might actually care for him 'in that way'? He gathered his courage and started to stand so that he could turn and face Sherlock, but Sherlock’s hands held him firm in the chair.

“No John. Please stay as you are. I have something that I wish to say and it will be easier if you’re not looking at me.” John obeyed and sat back down in the chair facing his computer. Sherlock turned and began pacing. “The matter of my heart and whether or not I actually possess one has been discussed ad nauseum of late. Everyone, it seems, has an opinion to share.

“I've always believed that sentiment is a weakness of the losing side and that I am strongest when I am alone. I still believe that. Emotions are a dangerous distraction and they make one vulnerable in far too many ways. Mycroft would agree with me that caring is not an advantage. Irene Adler lost because she let her heart rule.

“Having said that, I find that this past year I have become, quite reluctantly I might add, emotionally attached to certain individuals. The heart that I have tried not to acknowledge has reared its ugly head.” Sherlock smirked. “I, of course, blame you for this.

“I almost killed a man for laying hands on Mrs. Hudson. And then there was the quite uncharacteristic feeling of guilt and regret for the thoughtless comments I made that hurt Molly on Christmas Day. I've even come to think of Lestrad as more than a connection on the police force. Something of a friend perhaps?

"And finally, John, there’s you. You've been a tremendous asset to me in my work. It’s been very helpful for me to have someone, other than that skull, to share thoughts & ideas with. Beyond that, you've become a trusted friend and I do realize that there have been times when I most certainly did not deserve your friendship. For that I apologize. I know it’s a cliché, but you ground me and make me a better person. But there’s much more to it than that. I’m not quite sure how to say this, so bear with me." 

It took everything John had to stay seated in that chair as Sherlock continued.

“Quite extraordinarily I find myself looking forward to days when there are no cases to focus on and we end up spending the day here, watching crap telly together perhaps, or you pecking away on that thing while I conduct my experiments. The point is, I always know you are here, sharing the quiet with me. And yes, I do talk to you when you are gone, but not in the way you think. The fact is I find it a bit frightening when you aren't right here and it helps to talk to you. As I wake each morning, my first thought is of you.

"Love is still a mystery to me John, but love now has a name. You asked me if I had any regrets. The one regret is that I will never be able to give to you everything that you have given me. And please, for God’s sake, do not feel any obligation to respond to this in any way. As people have continued to assume we’re a couple, you have continued to deny it. I understand that and I’m not asking anything from you. But please do not let what I've said spoil this relationship that I have grown to depend on. I hope you can understand that on this anniversary day, I just needed to say all of this.

“So, as Moriarty has so cleverly deduced, it appears that I do indeed have a heart and as he is also very much aware, at the very center of it, my dearest John, is you. I have no doubt that he will use that knowledge to try to destroy me at some point in the future. I can only hope that I am clever enough to keep you out of the firing line.”

John could keep quiet no longer. “Sherlock…” He stood and walked to where Sherlock was standing. Looking up at him John first smiled and then chuckled as he shook his head back and forth.

Sherlock glared at him. “Are you laughing at me, John?”

“Good Lord, no,” John said as her reached up to touch Sherlock’s cheek. I’m not laughing. I’m chuckling.”

“And there’s a difference?”

“A rather large one actually. Come, sit and I’ll explain,” he said as he pushed Sherlock toward the sofa. “Now it’s my turn to talk.”

As they sat on the sofa John reached out and took Sherlock’s hand in his. “I told you that this year saved me but that’s not quite accurate. It was you who saved me. From that very first day when you asked Angelo to bring the cane back to me to the times that you've needed me to tell you when you were being a dick. You threw me a lifeline, Sherlock, and gave me purpose again."

“Ah, so informing me when I’m being a ‘dick’ is your purpose?” Sherlock asked gruffly.

“Shut up will you and let me finish.

"I woke up one morning and realized that I was actually looking forward to what that day would bring and that hadn't happened to me for a very long time. Perhaps that therapist was right about the blog, I don’t know. But I would never have had anything to write about if it hadn't been for the adventures you've taken me on. And I’m not just talking about the cases.

"I find myself watching you at odd moments and smiling. Though I can’t pin down the exact time or date, one day I realized that the feelings I had for you were more than friendship which made no sense to me. I've always considered myself ‘straight’, but I've come to realize that labels don’t really matter. Attraction is much more complex than gay or straight.

"What I have realized is that you complete something in me and I don’t care what you want to call that. All I know is that I want to be with you. As for denying the relationship, well, I just didn't like the idea that other people thought they knew what it was like between us. To me, that was a very private thing.

"Sherlock, I was chuckling because we're both idiots. But then I suppose most people in love are."

With that, John leaned forward and touched his lips to Sherlock’s. It was a short, sweet kiss. As he pulled back he looked into Sherlock’s eyes. He saw a vulnerability there that was completely foreign. For the first time in his life, it seemed, Sherlock was uncertain how to proceed. So this was Sherlock in love. 

Sherlock tentatively reached out and cupped John’s face in his hands. He slowly pulled John closer for a more intimate kiss. Technically, it needed some work, but for once the chemistry in this room had nothing to do with one of Sherlock's little experiments. John reacted as though his body was on fire.

As they separated and proceeded to stare at one another, he realized that it would be good for both of them to take some time to understand and embrace these new feelings and revelations. 

Reluctantly he whispered, "I seem to recall being invited to dinner to celebrate a rather special occasion. What do you say we go get ready and sort the rest of this out when we get home?"

"Excellent idea John. A good meal and a bottle of wine never goes amiss." With that they both stood and headed for their respective rooms to change for dinner.

As John was part way up the stairs he heard Sherlock chuckling to himself. "Do you want to share?" he asked stopping and turning back around to look at Sherlock.

"Just thinking that Mrs. Hudson will be over the moon. She's always been jealous of Mrs. Turner's 'married ones.'"

John smiled and turned to climb the remaining stairs to what he hoped would soon become his former bedroom.


End file.
